Monthly Archives: March 2008

I have a CD of my favorite Christmas carols that I’ve put together from other CDs. Obviously, it’s an eclectic group, like anyone else’s collection, ranging from Snoopy vs the Red Baron to the Harry Simone Choral to the Transiberian Orchestra to reggae songs, Paul McCartney & John Lennon. For years, I’ve been trying to get this one particular song, Joy!, but the CD was out of print and people re-selling it took advantage of that by charging $40 – $50 for theirs. As much as I wanted it, I’m not that nuts.

So I couldn’t believe it when I saw someone selling theirs on amazon.com for $18. I even sent the link to someone else to make sure I read it right; that it was for the CD, not the album or VHS. Then I snatched it up!

So even though it’s March, I’m playing it!

It comes from an 80s TV special (you can tell by the opening electric organ, can’t you? LOL!); here’s the animation that went with it. I wish I could forward it to 1:11 for you so it would skip past the other stuff and go right to the song, but oh well.

Things have been really rough, so working with the animal shelter on the farm we’re buying was a great break. Especially since I got to work with the horses. I love horses, ever since I was tiny, as you can tell by the title. I was one of those kids who asked Santa for a pony every Christmas. I had every Marguerite Henry book she ever wrote and devoured them over and over. When I found out Chincoteague and Assateague were real places, that Misty and all the others were real, and that I was actually going there, I was in heaven!! I read tons of horse books – the Black Stallion series, Flicka, National Velvet, Black Beauty and so many more about horses named Fury and Thowra — and dreamed of the day I own my horse ranch. I even kept a small notebook about it, naming the horses I’d have.

So when I got to the farm and asked where would they like me to work, I was pleading inside let me come into the horse pens. And when that’s what they said, I leapt inside with a huge grin. I helped clean out a few stalls and pens, and was paid with nuzzles and kisses from the horses. I learned to softly blow towards their noses, which they love, especially after I ate a chocolate chip granola bar! I fed them carrots and felt their velvet muzzles on my hand. I had Pinto yell at me for giving the others carrots when, obviously, I was only supposed to give them to him. And he and Creamy dazzled us all with enjoying their freshly cleaned paddock by running, bucking and leaping up! Then Pinto, teenager that he is, tried to act cool around Pious, the big male draft horse we rescued, trying to show the growunp he was cool and one of the guys. Shiza napped on the fence while watching us, nuzzling us as we went by.

I also worked in one of the sheds, earning me the cats’ attention, including Flash who popped up like a Jack-in-the-Box, and Midnight and Squiggy, constantly around our ankles. I gave treats to the pot belly pig, Lucy, and gave Tommy the beagle snausage some attention that he craves.

This is why I joined the shelter, to do this kind of work. I’m just a small part of it — Denise, Pam, they do the biggest work — but I’m part of rescuing this poor innocents from the abuse heaped on them by people. I give them the love and care they should have had, and hopefully, a new home in the future. As we all told Denise, who runs the farm, it’s the best day’s work we’ve had in a very long time: we were out on a nice day, laughing with friends, doing some physical work to get the juices flowing, and pushed back some of the darkness in the world. It was meaningful work, it had a good purpose, and we got a great paycheck.

John’s been sick all week; he started getting a bad cold last Saturday along with a fever. He even had to come from work early on Monday. I was worried he was getting the flu, but Tues night, the fever went away completely and he was doing better. But Wed started the whole cycle again and the last 2 nights, the fever got pretty hot for a cold. It broke again late last night, and I’m hoping it’s finally gone. Today’s his day off, so with a lot of rest, maybe he’ll start to get really better. I hope so, but I’m worried the fever will be back again. If it does, I told him that he should see the doctor. That it might not be a cold, but an infection.

My friend, Becky, and her family got a dog late last summer. I had warned her that with her fibromalgia, small yard, her husband’s late hours, and a toddler in the house, they would be better off adopting a small, adult dog with a mellow temperament. But her husband insisted they had to get a puppy because he didn’t want to inherit someone else’s bad training. And he wanted a big dog, like he had growing up. They got a golden doodle puppy. Unfortunately, he turned against the puppy after having her only a month. He complained she jumped around too much, wanted too much attention, and needed too much room.

Well, that’s what happens when you have a big puppy.

Long story short, he finally told Becky last week that it was him or the puppy. She called me in tears and it broke my heart hearing her cry. But almost worse was the fact that I wasn’t surprised. I just feared deep down that this day was going to come.

I got very lucky. I emailed a couple of people, one of them my friend Kathi who loves animals and does a lot with them. I didn’t have any hopes; Kathi told me before that she doesn’t have a lot of luck placing dogs, but within a few minutes, she found the perfect new home for the puppy!

But it still meant Becky had to give up her dog; she asked me to go with her on Saturday. Of course, I did. The whole day was heartbreaking. Becky was close to tears all day, and they had told their daughter that the puppy was going to “puppy camp” like a vacation and would be there for a long time. The people who took the dog are wonderful people, and their home is a dog’s dream come true with lots of room to run, another dog her age to play with, and loving people taking care of them. Becky broke down crying in my arms and I just hugged her, and told her that her pup would never forget her. And that she was doing the best thing: she had given her dog a loving person and attention, and now had found the best place for her in the next part of her life.

By the time I got home, I was exhausted from the emotional drain. I hugged my dogs tight, so thankful I was never going to be in Becky’s place. John felt the same way, and kept shaking his head as I told him the whole story and asking how Becky’s doing.

They’re talking about getting another dog in a couple of months, one like I had first suggested (although she said a small terrier, like Casey, but I pointed out that Casey is calm down because she’s 14! She was an energetic dog, like Elphie, until she was about 12! ). I’m hoping they don’t get another dog; that sounds harsh, but I just have this fear that we’ll repeat this whole thing again and that can’t happen.